Virginia’s Old Dominion University shooting exposed how a state law meant to advance “social justice” left a convicted would-be terrorist able to enroll without his past appearing on admission forms. The attack, which killed an ROTC instructor and was stopped by cadets, raised immediate questions about who knew what and why public safety was sidelined by policy. This article examines the law that removed criminal-history questions, the political choices behind it, and the consequences for campus security.

ODU Terrorist Hid in Plain Sight Thanks to Virginia Democrats’ ‘Social Justice’ Law

Shortly after Mohamed Bailor Jalloh, 36, stormed into a classroom at Old Dominion University last Thursday — shouting “Allahu Akbar!” — and opened fire on the ROTC class, Virginia’s governor publicly asked how he was on campus. The shooting killed Lt. Col. Brandon Shah, the class instructor, and ended when cadets returned fire and neutralized the attacker. The brutality of the act and the heroism of the students are both undeniable.

The crucial question is not just how the shooter got a gun, but how his prior federal conviction did not prevent him from blending in on campus. Jalloh had been convicted on federal charges of “attempting to provide material support to the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL), a designated foreign terrorist organization.” That conviction should have been a major red flag for any institution responsible for protecting students and staff.

The answer lies in a 2021 Virginia law passed by Democrats that bars most public colleges from asking applicants about criminal history. The bill, which excluded the Virginia Military Institute, prevents institutions from using admissions forms that inquire about criminal backgrounds and forbids denying admission based on criminal-history answers on third-party applications. It only allows checking an admitted person’s history before enrollment and then rescinding admission if a threat is later discovered.

That legal change was sold as a fairness measure and framed as removing barriers to opportunity, but the practical effect was to blind campus administrators and fellow students to serious past crimes. Republican leaders warned at the time that erasing criminal-history questions would reduce transparency and hinder safety, especially when federal convictions for terrorism are involved. The ODU incident shows those warnings were well founded.

Old Dominion’s statement after the shooting was blunt: the university had no knowledge of any prior criminal history for Jalloh. Under the current law, that ignorance was not accidental — it was mandated. Administrators and campus police were operating with one hand tied behind their back, legally restricted from asking during the admissions process what might have kept a convicted terrorist off campus.

To make matters worse, the campus bans on carrying firearms left students and staff with limited means to defend themselves until the attacker was confronted by ROTC cadets inside the classroom. Policies that disarm law-abiding citizens or prevent institutions from screening dangerous individuals create predictable vulnerabilities. This is a policy failure, not a tragic coincidence.

Virginia Democrats chose optics over security when they passed this legislation, and the consequences were foreseeable. When public safety is sacrificed in the name of ideological priorities, people die. The law’s loophole allowing an enrolled student to be checked only after admission creates a timing gap that can be fatal, and it is reckless to leave institutions blind to federal terrorism convictions while still barring defensive measures.

Republican officials, including former state leaders, pointed out these risks and urged common-sense fixes: restore the ability to ask about criminal history on admissions forms, carve out clear exceptions for violent and terrorism-related convictions, and give campus security the tools to identify genuine threats. These are not punitive measures against rehabilitation; they are targeted protections for the campus community.

Beyond policy fixes, the ODU shooting is a reminder that ideology cannot replace vigilance. Lawmakers who prioritize criminal-record erasure as a blanket rule must reckon with real-world tradeoffs. Responsible public safety policy recognizes the difference between giving second chances and ignoring dangerous histories that bear directly on the safety of others.

Families and students deserve campuses that balance fairness with firm protections against violent threats. When a law prevents institutions from learning about convictions tied to terrorism, it undermines that balance and invites disaster. The ODU tragedy should be a wake-up call to restore sensible screening and to ensure that political priorities never again leave communities exposed.